Notes For Fred
by alyssialui
Summary: A little drabble collection about life at the Burrow without Fred. Mostly from George's PoV but a few from the other Weasleys as well. Not in chronological order.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: After reading a link posted by cool KBOW writer, MelodyPond77 (Mel), I decided to write a little drabble collection about life at the Burrow without Fred. They are not written in any specific order. The notes are taken from a tumblr called letterstomrpotter, so you check them out as well._

_This is also a submission for:_

_**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft &amp; Wizardry (Challenges &amp; Assignments): **Hogwarts Scavenger Hunt - Arthur Weasley_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the list 12 Notes for Fred. But the stories I'm making from them are mine._

* * *

Today was a special day in the Burrow as it marked another milestone in the family: Dad's 59th birthday. Man, the guy was getting on in years. His hair was definitely thinner than it was last year, and he was getting a bit wider around the mid-region from Mum's cooking, but he still looked like my Dad all the same and I was happy to be celebrating the day with my family.

I came down the stairs after Ron for Dad's special birthday dinner. Mum was cooking all his favourites and then we would sing Happy Birthday and eat chocolate cake. A good way to celebrate a birthday if I do say so myself.

We all sat down at the table: Ron, Ginny, Bill, Fleur, Harry, Hermione and Percy. Charlie couldn't make it this year but he sent his love.

Mum entered the dining room and placed the last dish on the table. She looked around at the full table and then asked, "Where's Fred?"

All the lively chatter in the room stopped as we looked between Mum and the permanently empty chair on my left. No one sat in that chair for it wasn't their place, but until Mum drew attention to it, we hadn't even noticed.

I could see the shattering in my Mum's eyes before she actually fell to the floor. Dad rushed out of his chair to catch her, while the rest of us ran around her as she continued to wail. I could see the tears welling in the girls' eyes as well, and the sad frowns on my brothers and Harry's face. Everyone wanted to collapse, just like Mum, but they were still standing.

But I couldn't tear up. I could not frown. I could not collapse. I had to be strong. For all of them. For Mum. For Fred.

The birthday celebration was forgotten, the food cooled and the spirits gone as we all comforted Mum in the next room. It took awhile to get her to stop crying. Nothing we said really got her to stop, but eventually there were no more tears to shed. All the tears in the world would not bring Fred back. When we returned to the table, dinner had been a somber occasion. Everyone kept glancing at the empty chair before quickly looking away. The chair that would never be filled.

We miss you, Fred.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: George watches the clock. _Again, I do not own Harry Potter or the inspiration for the fics, but I do own the stories that were inspired.__

_This is also a submission for:_

_**Greek Mythology Mega Prompt Challenge: **Gaea – Write about the Weasleys._

_**The Battleship Challenge II****: **"Family means nobody gets left behind."_

_**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft &amp; Wizardry (Challenges &amp; Assignments): **Hogwarts Scavenger Hunt - George Weasley_

* * *

I moved back into the Burrow after the Battle. I just couldn't live in the flat above the store anymore. The empty rooms echoed with laughter that wasn't my own. The room across the hall was still as messy as it was when it was in use. And all the notebooks sported handwriting and ideas of someone who was gone.

Mum welcomed me back with open arms. We needed each other in that moment and I needed her hugs. I can remember when I used to run up to her when I was younger, me on one side and another on the other. Now it was just me getting the hugs full front. It wasn't the same but it was home.

The rest of my family was also a godsend. We held onto each other for dear life, everyone a little broken on the inside. So much had been lost and so much needed to be found. We were building, we were healing, and we were family. Family means nobody gets left behind, or forgotten.

Currently, I sleep in Charlie's room. I can't sleep in my old room, for same reasons I can't sleep in the flat. That room was where I grew up and I can't continue growing without another growing with me. When I feel ready, I will enter the room with my head held high, but until then I'll wait it out in my brother's.

But one thing that I can't escape at the Burrow, one thing that constantly reminds me of reality, lies in the living room. It's been there for centuries and it knows all. It doesn't lie and it doesn't discriminate. Every time I walk in and out of that room, I subconsciously turn to it, hoping I'll see something different.

Your hand has fallen off the clock. Mine's still pointed at "Lost"


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: George finds a sweater while helping out with the laundry._

_Also a submission for:_

__**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft &amp; Wizardry (Challenges &amp; Assignments): **Hogwarts Scavenger Hunt - Molly Weasley__

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

* * *

As the lovely son I am, I was helping out Mum with laundry this morning. It was my job today to fold all the clothes and send to up into everyone's room. It was a long task and definitely embarrassing when I found Ginny's unmetionables. I tossed those quickly onto her pile. She could deal with those herself.

But then I found something special - a purple jumper with a large letter 'F'. My breath caught in my throat as I turned the jumper back and forth in my hand. I held the jumper up to my nose, a familiar smell still lingering after the wash.

I ran to the nearest mirror and threw the jumper on over my head. I had to see myself. I had to see you.

I almost gasped at the reflection in the mirror. This is how I remembered you. This is how I saw you every Christmas morning. We loved getting these jumpers. They were made with love, and although Mum sometimes got the colours mixed up, we loved them all the same.

There was a soft noise behind me and I turned around. In the doorway of the downstairs bathroom stood Mum with tears in her eyes. Her mouth opened and closed wordlessly. There were no words to say.

I walked up to her and held her as tightly as I could. I tried to give her all the love I could in that moment. I tried to tell her that everything would be alright as she cried into the purple jumper. Things would be eventually be alright.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Ginny misses who her brother used to be. This chapter is from Ginny's PoV._

_Disclaimer: I do now own Harry Potter._

* * *

Sometimes he visits me in my dreams. He's always laughing. He's always smiling. He's always joking. He's not in any pain. He's not damaged. He's not how I last saw him. That's a good thing and I'm thankful those dreams have finally passed.

When I wake, there's a split second when I forget he's not here. He carries over from my dreams and I still imagine I'll hear his voice calling out beyond my bedroom door. But the second passes and I remember where I am. I remember what has happened. I remember that he's gone.

It's been hard on everyone since the Battle, Mum especially. Sometimes I find her crying when she thinks no one can see her. Sometimes she cries when we're all around her. It will take a long time for her move on.

Although Mum is hurting, no one is hurting more than George. He doesn't eat anymore. He doesn't laugh anymore. He hasn't spoken to anyone. Most days he just stays in bed.

When you left, you took most of George with you. We just want him to laugh again.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Charlie shares a room with George._

_Also a submission for:_

_**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft &amp; Wizardry (Challenges &amp; Assignments): **Hogwarts Scavenger Hunt - Charlie Weasley_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. But the plot of this one is actually mine and not taken from the letterstomrpotter tumblr._

* * *

I had come back to the Burrow for a week vacation. I knew my family was still trying to cope and everyone was doing better. I personally had thrown myself into my dragons. Getting third degree burns really distracted you from your home life.

But once I was at the Burrow, everything came crashing down. I didn't have time to cope like my brothers did. I had no one I could have spoken to who would understand exactly what it was like to lose a brother.

I found out that George had taken to sleeping in my room. I understood exactly why as well. It was hard to imagine the empty bed as I walked by the closed door as moved to and from my room. I can't imagine what it would be like to sleep next to it.

So I bunked with George in my room. Mum said he'd been in here for six months already. He spent the first three months locked away in here before he started to venture into the outside world.

They thought he was fine now. He was smiling more. He would actually give a chuckle every once in a while. He was eating to the point where he was starting to regain the weight he had lost in his cheeks.

But it was a lie. George was not fine, not by a long shot. I found out this as I lay in the bed across from his in my childhood room. I listened to the soft sounds that escaped him when he thought I was asleep. It was definitely heart-breaking to hear your twenty-year-old brother cry in his sleep, longing for another who would never come back.


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: It's hard having to blow out the candles by myself._

_Also a submission for:_

_**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft &amp; Wizardry (Challenges &amp; Assignments): **Hogwarts Scavenger Hunt - Bill Weasley_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

* * *

We all sat around the table as Mum brought out the cake. Her face was bathed in orange, her forehead beaded with sweat as the carried the lit cake over to the table. She placed it in front of me with a smile as everyone crowded around in anticipation.

It was our twenty-first birthday, the day we were supposed to become men. We were men before but now it was official.

But then I frowned as I stared at the cake. There were twenty-one orange candles.

"Mum," I said. "There are only twenty-one candles."

Everyone looked at me strangely as Bill said, "Yes, you're turning twenty-one today, in case you've forgotten."

"Someone else turned twenty-one today, in case _you've_ forgotten," I said bitterly. There was silence as I instantly got up from the table, the chair grating on the wooden floor as I ran to the kitchen.

I rifled through the kitchen drawers until I found what I wanted and re-entered the dining room. I didn't care as everyone watched me. I painstakingly inserted each purple candle into the cake, mimicking the pattern Mum had made with the orange ones.

Then I sat down abruptly in front of the cake once more before twenty-one orange candles and twenty-one purple candles. The temperature in the room had risen considerably from the forty-two burning sticks, but I didn't care. They had to be there. They had to burn for both of us. It was tradition.

It was hard to know that Mum had left off your candles, but I didn't blame her. It was hard to put them in. It was harder to blow them out all by myself.


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: This is your greatest prank ever. That's why I can't stop laughing. Sorry this one is so short. I hope you still enjoy. RnR. FnF._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

* * *

I hardly come downstairs. I can't stand to be around anyone. They all stare at me as if I'm going to explode into a million tiny pieces. If they believe that of me, how am I to prove them wrong? If everyone thinks that's going happen, then they must all be right, right?

I'm trying to get better, I really am, but it's difficult. I feel broken and shattered inside, just like they think I am. I feel 'holey' without you. You would have found that funny but I can't anymore. Nothing is funny anymore.

Except this. You planned the greatest prank to date, so great, you didn't even let me help you. I laugh out loud whenever I think of it because I know the joke's on me.


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: It's hard to move on when I see you in the mirror. Warning for some blood._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

* * *

I hiss as I cradle the bloody knuckles of my right hand in my left. The sound of the breaking glass is still bouncing around the small bathroom. I'm sure the others outside have heard the noise but they haven't said anything yet. They've heard it before.

I acted out on impulse, something you always told me never to do. You were always the calm one. You were the one who thought things through. You would have told me not to do this.

But you aren't here anymore. You aren't here to stop me. You aren't here to tell me that it's wrong. You aren't here beside me anymore.

I throw myself onto the floor amidst the broken shards of what was once the bathroom mirror. This is the second time I've broken it after Mum fixed it. My shirt becomes stained as blood drips from my knuckles. The open cuts burn in the air and I see there are a few small pieces of glass in some of them, but I don't care about. I don't care about anything anymore.

I stare at the one of the larger pieces that fell to the floor, its reflective surface pointed at me. But I don't see me in the mirror. I can't see myself and that's why I'm still not well.

It's hard to move on when I see you every time I look in the mirror.


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: Sometimes I pause in my sentences waiting for you to finish them._

_**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft &amp; Wizardry (Challenges &amp; Assignments):** Hogwarts Scavenger Hunt - Fleur Weasley_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

* * *

I've started talking again and I think that's progress. There were days when I would just stare out at the table, listening to the conversation around me before I quietly excused myself. I didn't feel like I could add much to those discussions of mountains of paperworks and dropped quaffles. I just felt so out of place.

But now, I actually join in. I have something I feel I can contribute. Just the other day, there was a beetle in my bed. Someone must have dropped it there. I'm sure it would have been you. A few tears slipped out as I wished you had actually done it. It would have been a predictable prank but one nonetheless. I still laughed, however, and the fact that I laughed means I'm healing, and I'm happy about that.

I was telling that story tonight during dinner. "And it was this big," I said, holding my hands out a foot wide for emphasis. Fleur rolled her eyes but they all knew I was joking. I could feel their happiness as they let me tell my exaggerated story.

"It almost got in my nose, the bugger," I said with a laugh. "It was definitely-" I started and stopped in expectation for the rest of the sentence.

The pause stretched for a few seconds and they all looked at me strangely. I couldn't understand the pause either. The punchline was about to drop but why was it taking so long?

Then I blinked and as I remembered the reason. I had gotten caught up in my story telling I had forgotten... My eyes travelled to the empty seat next to me and I looked away quickly. I cleared my throat and turned back to my plate. "Skin-crawling," I ended quietly as I moved the food awkwardly around my plate.

You're no longer there to finish my jokes.


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: We had come far enough now to be able to laugh about it._

_Submission for:_

_**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft &amp; Wizardry (Challenges &amp; Assignments): **Hogwarts Scavenger Hunt - Victoire Weasley**  
**_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

* * *

I was sitting on the steps by the backdoor as little Victoire ran around in small circles. Her bright blue eyes took in all the backyard as she flung her hands out in joy. Bill and Fleur needed me to watch her for the day and she just loved hanging out Grandma's house with Uncle George.

I laughed as she screamed at the top of her lungs, and joined in with her cute little song. Her blonde hair flew behind her as she ran back to me and then jumped into my arms.

I snuggled the three-year-old to my chest, inhaling the smell of peppermint in her hair, as the back door opened behind me. "Fred, are you out here?" a voice called out.

I froze as Mum stepped out onto the porch with a tray of lemonade, her own eyes widening as she realized her blunder. Five years later and she was still calling out her other son's name.

But I just laughed away the awkwardness and said, "I'm George. Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother."

Victoire laughed at my joking tone, not getting the reference but Mum did. She laughed along and placed the lemonade on the little table before taking a seat. I picked up Victoire and took the seat across from her, placing the little girl on my lap. I looked into his Mum's eyes to see a few tears leaking out the corner and gave her a comforting smile.

We had come far enough now to be able to laugh about it.


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: Ron notices his brother George. Ron's PoV._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

* * *

Everyone had lost someone during the Battle, but no one lost someone as close to them as George. He lost more than his other half that day. He lost himself completely.

He locked himself away in Charlie's room immediately afterwards. We let him be. We knew he needed time to himself. No one could understand exactly what he was going through. None of us had had a second half, someone who was just like us, someone who did everything together to the point where we finished each other's sentences.

It took three months before he came out of the room. He came downstairs with a light in his eyes and pep in his step. Everyone was shocked to say the least, but we were all rejoicing. George was back it seemed.

But I knew better. I could see it. I had grown up with my brothers my whole life and though I may not have been the most observant, I knew George. George was just putting on a mask for us. George wanted to be strong so he would pretend to be strong until he actually was. George was still hurting. I could see it in his walk, hear it in his carefully structured sentences and feel it whenever he tried to make light of a situation. There was always a tense feeling following every quip or comment.

Even now he was still hurting. Even now he wasn't completely right. But I didn't doubt that it would happen eventually. He needed time, just like we all did.


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: George can see the changes. He's getting better._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

* * *

I'm getting better. I can see it in the fat that's starting to get back onto my face. I feel it in the way my joints don't hurt when I wake up because I've been moving around in my sleep. I notice my pillow is no longer dampened by tears or sweat. I'm getting better.

I think I may be able to move out of Charlie's room soon. He came to visit for a few weeks back. I tried to keep up a brave front, just like I was with the others, but it's hard to pretend when you're sleeping. It's hard to stop the tears that fall in the silence. He never once spoke to me about it though. I don't know if I should be happy about that or not.

But I'm getting better, something I thought wouldn't happen until a much longer time. Does that mean I don't still miss him? Of course not! It just means I know he wouldn't want me to be this way. He would want me to continue living for both of us. I will be strong and I will get better for both of us.


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N: George has a talk with Charlie. Charlie PoV. A bit longer than the others. A George/Charlie brotherly moment._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

* * *

I towelled off my hair from the shower as I walked from the bathroom back to my bedroom. It was early, not even Mum was up yet, but I'm used to being up and moving at this time. In Romania, I'd be off to visit the dragons in the infirmary, but at home, it's just a regular, quiet lazy Saturday. Though I would never give up my dragons, sometimes I miss slow days like this.

I pushed the door to my room open softly, trying not to wake up the other occupant. George had taken up residence in my room since the Battle, and I knew with the nightmares he had, he didn't get much rest. There were times when he even cried himself to sleep, though I would never mention it to him. We were all allowed to mourn in our own way, and losing a brother is hard on anyone. I imagine losing a twin is worse.

But it seemed I never had to be quiet. George was up and just laying on his back staring up at the ceiling. His red eyes didn't even move as I stepped through the doorway. He just faced upwards, the sheets crumpled at his feet and his chest exposed to the cool morning air.

"George," I said quietly but not expecting a response. He had hardly spoken a word to me while I stayed here, though we shared a room. I just chalked it up again to his mourning.

But as I was moving about and dragging a shirt out of my bags, I heard a soft voice ask me, "Do you miss him?" It was raspy and dry from disuse, but the raw emotion was evident in it. George's vulnerability was shining through, something I don't think I had ever seen in my life.

"All the time," I admitted. I miss my little brother daily. I threw myself into my dragons as soon as I got back to the Reserve. I did everything I could to try and occupy my mind from thinking about him for too long, and it wasn't that hard when you were fighting for your life and treating third-degree burns. It was hard coming home and not having that but I knew I needed to do this. I needed to mourn just like everyone else, and live through the memories just like everyone else.

"I can see him when I walk through the hallways," I continued. "I can see the two of you mixing up concoctions in your room, I can see him flying on his broom outside my window, and I can see him doubled over as he laughs at a wet, purple-faced Percy."

I saw the ghost of a smile on George's face. He sat up and swung his feet over his bed as he commented, "He did love to bug Percy."

There was another pause and I thought the conversation is over. It wasn't much but it was something, probably even more than the others have gotten out of the young man. But then he asked one more thing, "How do you go outside everyday and face the world knowing he's not there?"

I let out a long breath and said, "I live my life day to day because I know he'd want me to. He wasn't one to see people stop doing what they love, so I continue to do it in his honour."

George nodded and then, "I'm thinking of reopening the shop. He would want that."

I walked over to my brother and placed a kind hand on his shoulder, "Yes, he would want you to continue your dream, for both of you."

George smiled and reached a hand to put over mine, "Thanks, Charlie."


	14. Chapter 14

_A/N: George can't stand the constant reminders. Remember, the chapters are not in chronological order, so while George was better in the last chapter, he is back to being broken in this one._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

* * *

I haven't been able to sleep through the night since that day. I'm still conditioned to hearing soft snores across from me the darkness. Instead now, I wake up many times alone in the dark.

I'm lucky if its a nightmare. On those nights, I wake up gasping as I try to remember that I'm not in my own bed above the shop. I'm not stuck in the Battle with nasty curses whizzing by. I'm not standing over what used to be my brother. My joints ache from the thrashing in my sleep during the visions. My sheets are drenched in sweat and my pillow soaked with tears.

It's worse if it's a dream. The dream lulls me into a false sense of security. It paints a world that doesn't really exist. I'm happy in the dream and laughing with him. We play the pranks and roam the halls of Hogwarts like we usually did. But dreams hurt because I have to wake up. I have to come back to a world where they'll never come true.

When it's finally morning, I shuffle to the bathroom before everyone wakes up. I don't want them to see me this way. I don't want them to see me at my worst. I don't want them to see that I'm just an incomplete half of a whole. I don't even want to see myself.

Because everyday I see your face just by looking in the mirror and everyday I hear your voice just by using my own, everyday I'm reminded of what happened and I ask myself, "Why you? Why not me?"


	15. Chapter 15

_A/N: George gets a visitor. Some George/Angelina for you guys._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

* * *

"George, you have a visitor," Mum called up the stairs one afternoon. I raised my head off my pillow, wondering who it could be. I never got visitors and I never left the house, and it must have been someone rare for Mum not to know or use their name.

I drew my myself out of bed and tried to find a clean shirt among the messy floor of Charlie's room. With a quick splash of water on my face, and making sure not to look too long in the mirror, I descended the stairs.

"George," the woman in my living room said as she saw my face appear.

"Ange, what are you doing here?" I asked as I walked over to her. She rose from the couch to embrace me, the familiar smell of almonds floating around her and she gave me a dazzling smile before pulling me down on the couch beside her. It was then I realized I missed her. I hadn't thought about it, but I truly missed this girl.

"How are you?" she asked, as she placed her hand on my arm. I remembered the times she would do the same as we sat in the common room and the tingling feeling my skin got upon the contact.

"I've been... good," I said as I looked into her eyes, but then I shook my head. I may have been trying to fool my family that I was okay, but I could never lie to Ange.

"I've been bad, Ange. I spent the last three months locked away, unable to face the world. It's only recently, I've been coming back downstairs and taking a breath of fresh air. It's just recently I'm starting to face the fact that the world doesn't have him in it anymore."

I expected her to scold me, to jump up with her hands on her hips and wag her finger at me, just like she always had when I didn't do my homework when we were at Hogwarts. But instead, she took my hand in hers and gave it a warm, understanding squeeze. "That's the same thing that happened to me. I've just recently come back outside and that's why I came to find you."

I opened my mouth a bit in disbelief, not knowing what to say. I hadn't thought of it that way, her losing someone just like me.

"I need you in my life, George. I realized just how much the two of you were a part of it. It's been three months since that day, and I've been acting as if I lost the two of you, forgetting that you were still here and you were hurting like me. You needed someone, just like I did."

A strange feeling washed over me at that moment. The girl I had liked since I met her when we were eleven was telling me she needed me. This was something I had always wanted but had put aside when Fred had made his own feelings for her known and asked her to the Yule Ball.

But now it was just the two of us and no one in between. Should I have felt guilty for liking my brother's girlfriend? Should I have felt regret for not seeking her out sooner and helping her through the pain?

That was in the past and I couldn't change any of that now. It had been three months and the world was still turning, the birds were still flying and I still couldn't help the warm feeling in my chest whenever she smiled at me.

I could have used this moment to do something dramatic, as guys always did in Mum's romance books. But I wouldn't do that. I respected my brother to much for that to instantly make a move on the girl who was still technically his girlfriend. She was still healing, as was I, and doing anything like that may just make things worse between us.

Instead, I just smiled and drew Angelina to me, placing a chaste kiss on her forehead before saying, "We have each other now."

If the future said we were to be together, get married and start a family, then so be it. But for now, this would be enough. We would heal together, for Fred.


	16. Chapter 16

_A/N: He knows it's no one's fault, but he has to place the blame on someone. George/Percy brother moment._

_Also a submission for:_

_**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft &amp; Wizardry (Challenges &amp; Assignments): **Charms Assignment #5 -Write about someone who makes a confession about something small that seemed like a big deal to him._

* * *

There was a soft knock on the door, prompting me to raise my head a bit before letting it fall back onto my pillow. Eventually, whoever was on the other side would simply leave once they got no response. I didn't want to see or speak to anyone. I still felt lost, confused and I just wanted to be left alone.

The knock sounded again and I inwardly cursed my mother for choosing to be persistent today. Maybe she was calling me down to join everyone at the table, to share in the smiles and the laughter as they ate her lovely dinner. I rolled onto my side. I had no smiles or laughs to share. Why couldn't she just leave me up here?

Then the door opened. I opened one eye towards the doorway and saw that it wasn't my mother, but it was someone I had hoped not to see for a long time.

He came in with his head held high, his hair brushed back, pushing his glasses higher on the right of his nose before he said, "Mum sent me to get you."

I closed my eye and said, "She should know by now that I'll come down when I'm ready."

My brother frowned, an indignant look crossing his face before he said, "She's only trying to reach out to you, she's only trying to bring you back to us."

"No one can bring _him_ back," I said, my voice getting louder as I sprung into a sitting position, glaring at my brother in the doorway. Anger rushed through my veins. Couldn't they see that? Didn't they understand?

My brother looked down at his feet, biting thoughtful on his bottom lip before he said, "I know that, but we all have to accept that there's nothing that can be done, there's nothing-"

"No!" I shouted. "I can't do that. I can't just let go like that. I can't just forget him like he never existed."

"No one's saying you have to-" my brother said but I held up my hand. I didn't want his pity. I didn't want him acting like I was crazy or being ignorant.

"That's what they want me to do! They want to just move on, but I can't. He was the greatest person who ever lived and he's gone!" Then before I could stop myself, I pointed at him and ended, "And it's because of you!"

It had been something mulling around in my mind ever since that day, something small that no one else seemed to see but I did. Now the words were out. I knew I couldn't take them back and I found half of me didn't want to. At that moment, I wanted my brother to hurt like I did, I wanted him to feel like I did.

There was a pregnant pause, my chest slightly heaving as my brother took a slight step backwards. I used his stupor to my advantage, rising from my place on the bed and advancing on him. "Why were you next to him and not me? Why didn't you do something? Why did he have to go? Why not you?" Angry tears streamed down my face as I fell at my brother's feet, my hands moving to cover my face. "Why not me?" I gasped out.

I felt arms come around me as my brother knelt as well, wet trails on his cheeks to match my own. "I think about that everyday," my brother's voice came softly to my ear. "I feel like it was my fault and I am the one who should have died that day. If I hadn't left in the first place, if I hadn't been so blind, if I hadn't distracted him,..."

His voice faded away into nothing as he held me in his arms. No one apologized. No more words were said. Instead, we sat on the floor together, sharing a good cry for the fallen soldier, both wishing it was us instead of him.


	17. Chapter 17

_A/N: The only thing that makes me feel worse are Mum's tears. George/Molly bonding._

_Also a submission for:_

_**During The War Challenge****: **The weasley kids' reaction to 'Not My Daughter, You Bitch!'._

_**Mother's Day Competition: **Molly/George_

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It was late now. I always made sure to go downstairs when I knew everyone would be sleeping in their own bedrooms. It was just easier this way, without their attempts at conversations, or even worse, their questions about my well-being. I wasn't well and I was barely being, and I just wanted to be alone.

But then there was a small sound coming from the kitchen. It was a sound I rarely heard in my childhood, but became more frequent as the years went by and evil became an ever-present shadow on our doorstep. It was a sound I hated to hear and wished to never hear again. I heard my mother's sobbing.

This wasn't how it was supposed to be. Mum was supposed to be strong, the strongest person I had ever known. For every scratch or scrape, every problem or worry, I had run to her in my time of need and she always knew the right thing to do.

Her strongest moment was the night of the Battle. There had been spells flying everywhere, and no one could tell who was firing at who anymore. We were all simply tired, we had gone through so much and suffered so much loss. We all just wanted this to end.

It all seemed to happen in slow motion. I had seen the madwoman approaching Ginny from behind. I had seen the glint in her eyes as she raised her wand. There was going to be another death and there was nothing I could do.

"Not my daughter, you bitch!" Mum had cried. There was no time to interpret what she had said for there was a sudden flash of green. My heart stopped, however it wasn't Ginny who had fallen. Mum towered over the madwoman's body in triumph, and that's when I knew my mother had super-powers.

But tonight was different. All her strength had been sapped from her and had left this strange woman in her place. Seeing her like this was simply heart-breaking and I couldn't take it anymore. I stepped into the doorway and cleared my throat.

She stilled, her sobs quieting and her shoulders stopped trembling as she turned towards me. "George!" she said, dabbing at her eyes. "I was just, I was just-"

I walked up to her and brought her into my chest, hating the feeling of her warms tears on my bare chest but enduring them all the same.

She threw her arms around me desperately, clinging to my thin frame as she said, "I should have done something, anything. What kind of mother lets one of her cubs get hurt? What kind of mother lets her cub-"

I rubbed a soothing hand across her back, calming her down before she got into another frenzy. "The same mother who raised her cubs to be able to fight for themselves. The same mother who has all her other cubs' love and support and don't blame her for anything. You are the greatest mother anyone could ever have and nothing can change that."


	18. Chapter 18

_A/N: Another day of this life is more than I can take._

_Submission for:_

_**The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition: **Round 2 - Write about whatever you want whilst portraying your given emotion in your fic. without explicitly telling the reader what the character is feeling. Emotion: sadness. Prompts: (style) First person PoV, (word) dawn, (song) "Numb" by Linkin Park_

_**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft &amp; Wizardry (Challenges &amp; Assignments): **Divination Assignment #10 - Write about a character experiencing death - a loved one, a friend, a pet, an enemy - and how they learn from the encounter with mortality_

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I can feel the burning around the edges of my eyes and the tightness of the muscles of my face and body. The house is silent, the only sound around me is my soft breathing. How long have I been laying in this position? How long have I been counting off the time with the beat of my heart? How long have I been tracing the patterns in the wood of Charlie's bedroom ceiling?

My eyes shift slightly towards the window across the room. I can see the slow lightening of the sky peeking through the space between the curtains, the dark blues turning into soft reds, oranges and yellows. It is dawn, which means another sleepless night has passed, but also another haunting day without you.

I blink, water leaking out of my eyes and down my temples, the warm wetness getting lost in sweat dampening the roots of my messy hair. My head is flat against the mattress, my pillow fallen to the ground long ago. The sheets are damp as well, rumpled and drawn beneath my body from weeks of being unmade. I try to move, willing my muscles to contract and my joints to bend, but nothing happens. I don't really want to move. I don't want to leave this bed. I don't want the day to begin.

I can't take another day of this, another day of waiting for something and knowing it won't come, another day of whispers outside the door and soft knocks I refuse to answer. They have been trying to talk to me, trying to get through. Some days, it's just one person, usually Mum. Other days, they all give it a go - Bill, Ginny, even Fleur and Hermione. The wood muffles their voices but I can still hear them, laced with love, comfort, pity. Let us in, they say. It's not my fault, they say. They understand what I'm feeling, they say.

But I can't let them in. They're wrong, it is my fault. They don't understand what I'm feeling, there's no way they can, since I don't understand it either. After weeks of feeling broken, torn and utterly destroyed by your absence, lately, I feel nothing. My heart still beats and my lungs still fill. I'm still living but there is nothing more.

As each day passes, you're slowly slipping away from me. I can't feel you there anymore. I can't feel your smile, your laugh, your warmth. I can't see the wind blowing through your hair or remember the smell that lingered on your skin. All the memories we shared are fading - nights staying up late planning pranks and inventing, walking through the apple orchard behind the house, talking about what wanted to do with our futures and who we'd marry. The images are blurring, deteriorating and there will be no more to fill their place.

It was always me and you standing at each other's side, ready to face the world together. You were the one I could always depend on. I never thought there would be a time when that would never be. Now, it's just me left behind to pick up the pieces. I'm not used to this, waking up without seeing you sleeping across from me without your shirt, your snores even louder than my own. I'm not used to the lack of responses and jokes which used to liven any day, no matter how silly. I'm not used to the silence which threatens to suffocate me every waking moment of every day.

Without you, there is no one to guide me, no one to help me know right from wrong. I don't know what to do with myself. I don't know what you're expecting of me. There's so much pressure to please you, to live like you did and like you wanted us to live, but I feel like I've failed you. I'm still failing you. Everything I do is just another mistake, something else I'm not doing right. This isn't what you would have liked. This isn't what you would have wanted. I've disappointed you. I'm disappointing myself. I'm letting this defeat me. I'm letting this change me. I'm letting this kill me. Sometimes I wish it actually would.

"I need you. Help me," I plead, my throat sore and my voice cracking from disuse. It's strange, foreign, empty. It doesn't sound like mine but it doesn't sound like yours either. What did yours sound like? It's been so long. I can hardly remember but I know it's not the same. It'll never be the same again.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, blocking out the brightness creeping into the room as the dam finally breaks. One tear falls, then another. I can't stop them. I don't want to stop them. I let the emotion wash over me, sobs racking my tired body and the tears flowing freely. This is the most I've felt in a long time and I only have myself to blame. No matter how I try, I can't move on. Moving on means that acting as if nothing has happened, like everything is fine. Moving on means forgetting, and I can't forget you. I could never forget you. You were my other half, maybe even my entire being. You were everything for me. I can never live up to who you were, no one can, and that's what hurts the most.


End file.
